Page 19 of Small Town Hero
Well, two of those things were true. So, she could make a reasonable guess.
She couldn’t see his face. It was concealed by the darkness.
He was a big, hulking silhouette with the truck lights behind him.
Cowboy hat even when there was no reason for him to have it on, broad shoulders, stupidly tall.
Truly, there was no reason for a person to be that tall.
Stepladders had been invented, so there wasn’t an evolutionary purpose to it.
She had a feeling, though, even though she couldn’t see his expression, that he was mad.
And Birdie decided right then and there that she was going to do what she did best. Double down.
A lesson she had learned early was that people expected a certain thing from a person caught in an outrageous lie.
And often, when you defied that expectation, they didn’t really know what to do.
Often, they started to believe the lie as long as you made it very clear that you believed it all the way to your bones.
Denial was more than a river in Egypt. It was also one of Birdie’s very good friends.
“This is actually my horse,” she said. “We were just going for a late-night ride.”
“The trouble is, that’s my horse. I know which horse it is too. Alfalfa Sprout. You set an alarm off inside my stable. And I watched you pilfer her, from my phone.”
“That’s very weird, because it is not your horse. It’s my horse named Pegasus, and Alfalfa Sprout is a stupid name.”
“Birdie,” he said, his voice as uncompromising as the rest of him. “I saw you. You’re caught on camera taking the horse.”
“I don’t recall such a thing happening.”
“I don’t care if you recall it or not. I have the video saved on my phone, and I am going to call the police. Which is something my father never did do, because he felt he couldn’t prove that your father was stealing.”
“News flash: I’m not my father. So even if my father was stealing from you, and he probably was—he’s a very unsavory character—it has nothing to do with me.
I am as pure as the driven snow. I would never.
I was actually out riding because I’ve been really busy with my volunteer work at the Methodist Church. ”
“It’s not volunteering to sneak into the food pantry and take stuff for yourself.”
She had to hold back a snarl. “I haven’t done that since I was twelve. I’ve had a character arc.”
“Yeah. You’ve gone from stealing gummy bears to stealing whole horses. Not really the kind of arc most people go on.”
“That just proves they aren’t ambitious. Though, I maintain my innocence.”
“I don’t really care what you maintain. I’m going to call the police.”
She felt an icy chill down her spine. It wasn’t that she’d never had brushes with the law before. But not since she was a kid. The stakes had been lower back then. A little slap on the wrist, nothing that would linger on her record to the end of time.
But this? She couldn’t have a record of her stealing livestock—she really would never get a job working at a ranch again.
“Don’t do that,” she said.
“Why the hell shouldn’t I? You’re trespassing. You stole my horse.”
“Technically, I’ve never left the property.” She should’ve known that with Gunnar, doubling down wouldn’t work. Because as stubborn as she was, he was more so.
“Doesn’t matter. Your intentions are clear.”
“Please,” she said, hating the fact that there was a note of pleading in her voice. “Just take her back. I have a job. But if I don’t have a horse I can’t do the job.”
“Here’s the problem with you, Birdie—you’re full of crap. Just like your old man. You always have been. You might have a job. Or you might have intended to load my horse into a shipping container and sell her for meat.”
Birdie was legitimately offended by that. “I would never, and have never hurt an animal in my life. I would take better care of this horse than you do. You have so many of them, and I don’t even have one.”
“Well, I hate to break it to you, but there’s no horse distribution system out there making sure there’s horse equity.”
“Maybe there should be. Office of equine equity.”
“I’m not bantering with you in the middle of the night in the middle of my driveway.”
“Well, I’m not going to jail. So we are at an impasse.”
“Whether or not you go to jail is up to the police officers, not to me.”
Feeling defeated, she dismounted. And winced again because she could feel the hay on her socks.
“You listen to me. I wanted this horse to make my life better, and I will be damned if I’m going to let you ruin it, Gunnar Parsons.
You were born with a silver spur in your ass.
And I’ve never had a damn thing. Not a damn thing that I didn’t work for—”
“Is that what you call stealing these days?”
“You inherited all of this. You don’t know what it is to struggle. What it is to suffer. How dare you stand there like you’re the one up on a high horse.”
“You need a job, Birdie?”
She blinked. She was utterly flabbergasted by his question. “Yes. That’s what I’ve been saying. And actually I have one, but I need the horse—”
“I’ll tell you what. You can work it off, and I won’t call the cops. Your debt, your dad’s debt. And I’ll save some wages for you in an account. You’ll get some money too, once I’m satisfied that there’s been restitution made for the years that the Lennox family siphoned cash off of my family.”
“I’m sorry, are you suggesting that I work to pay off my father’s sins?”
“They’re sins that you’re participating in.
My ranch is not a food pantry. It’s not here for you to take things just because you feel like you’re in need.
It never has been. I don’t respect a con.
And I sure as hell don’t respect a thief.
Honest work, that’s the only thing I recognize, so if you think you can do that, if you think you can put in an honest day’s work here for two months, I’ll send you off with a clean slate and a horse. ”
“I don’t have anywhere to stay.”
“You can stay in the bunkhouse.”
A job with a room? What he was offering her wasn’t a bad deal. And if it wasn’t bad, it meant it was too good to be true, and that did feel like a conundrum.
She stood there dumbfounded. “But I’ll miss the cattle drive.”
“I don’t give a crap about the cattle drive. You need work—I’ve got work.”
“I want to get out of here. I need to get out of this town.”
“Great. I can help you do that. Honestly.”
“Why?”
“That isn’t any of your business. So what do you think, Birdie Lennox? Do we have a deal, or do I call the cops?”
Begrudgingly, and with gunk in her boots, Birdie took a step forward. And stuck her hand out. “We have a deal.”
He shook her hand, and she was surprised by how rough it was. How hot. She had never touched Gunnar Parsons in her life. And why the hell would she?
One thing she knew for certain was that he wasn’t offering charity. There was a catch. She was going to find it. And when the moment was right, she was going to throw a lemon right at him.
But for now, she wasn’t going to get arrested.
That would do.